


Read My Mind

by erbine99



Category: WandaVision (TV)
Genre: F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Porn With Plot, Smut, holy shit there's a lot of stuff in this fic, more plot than porn really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erbine99/pseuds/erbine99
Summary: White Vision is dead, and Wanda's magic has released Westview. Her version of Vision and the kids are gone, vanished into the ether. Wanda is left to grieve again - but this time she has a friend. Agatha Harkness is here to help.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness & Wanda Maximoff, Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff
Comments: 26
Kudos: 159





	Read My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> So this got super super dark? I set out to write some smut and ended up with a whole bunch of different things and only a little smut. But also I literally never write smut (this is the only piece on my ao3 that has it) and uh I think this went pretty well all things considering. I'm obsessed with Wanda/Agatha and you WILL see more from me.

Agatha is just on the brink of getting Wanda under control when White Vision enters the picture. She knows the moment she sees the thing (man? robot?) that she no longer has any chance to control the situation. 

And in the end, when White Vision lies broken on the ground, with Wanda crying over him, Agatha finds herself wanting to go and find whoever is responsible and rip out their internal organs. Who would be this stupid? What idiot decided to antagonize the Scarlet Witch with the thing that could hurt her most? Did they even have a plan other than pissing off the most powerful being on the planet? 

Wanda is losing control. The little sitcom world she’s created ripples around her, and then collapses. Suddenly Westview, New Jersey is back to normal again. Thousands of souls regain power over themselves. Westview’s version of Vision disappears into the ether, along with Wanda’s boys. 

Wanda sobs on the ground. Having seen Wanda’s memories, Agatha knows that things have the potential to go even further south very quickly if Wanda is left to her own devices. So she does what seems natural. She walks over to the middle of the street where Wanda is crying, kneels down on the ground, and holds her tightly. The Scarlet Witch doesn’t object, doesn’t move away, doesn’t even say a word. She just sobs, and lets herself be held. Absentmindedly, Agatha performs a small bit of magic, warding that bit of street against anyone’s entrance. There will be no more surprises. No one else is coming to upset the most powerful witch in the world. 

Agatha stays there for what must be hours, rubbing her fingers in small circles on Wanda’s back. Eventually, the sun goes down. Wanda has moved from full-body sobs to catatonia.

“Sweetheart,” says Agatha. “At some point, you’ve got to move,”. For the first time since White Vision’s demise, Wanda meets Agatha’s eyes. 

“Why?” asks Wanda, her voice hoarse. There is more than one question in that word. Why do these things happen to me? Why are you being so nice? Why should I go on? 

“Sitting in the middle of the road isn’t advisable at the best of times,” replies Agatha, answering none of Wanda’s questions. The Scarlet Witch musters up some small amount of energy to roll her eyes at Agatha. But then Wanda stands up slowly.

“What do I do now?” Wanda asks, the Sokovian accent back in full force. Agatha gets up off the ground and puts her hand on Wanda’s shoulder. 

“I’ve always been fond of revenge,” remarks Agatha. Wanda closes her eyes, bone tired. When she opens them, they are red. Agatha can feel the power rolling under Wanda’s skin. It’s a little bit intoxicating.

And then Wanda launches herself off the ground, flying at a breakneck pace toward some enemy Agatha knows little of. She follows her, of course. Wanda is the most dangerous woman in the universe, and it’s best to keep tabs on her. Besides - Agatha wants to watch. 

Wanda touches down a good ten seconds before Agatha does. The woman is fast. They’re outside of some kind of government bunker. Wanda smashes through the door, chaos magic pulsing around her hands. On the other side of the door are SWORD agents, guns pointed right at the Scarlet Witch. 

Wanda waves her hands, and the guns disintegrate into red dust. Waves them again, and a man is floating toward them.

This is the man who pissed off the most powerful being on the planet. He doesn’t look like much. 

“Why, Hayward?” asks Wanda. The pathetic man doesn’t answer. He’s shaking.

“You don’t have to do this, Wanda,” he says. Wanda smiles, feral.

“I definitely do,” she replies. Her hands move and then suddenly Hayward’s internal organs are flying out of his stomach. It makes Agatha just the slightest bit nauseous but she can’t help but admire the kill. Hayward’s body floats back into the bunker, and Wanda shuts the door, magicing it closed. The agents inside may never get out. 

Agatha’s hands are back on Wanda’s shoulders now. 

“Does that feel better?” asks Agatha. Wanda looks at her again with those dead eyes and gives the slightest of nods. “Would you like to rest?” Agatha proposes. Another, tiny nod. And then Agatha snaps her fingers, and she and Wanda are somewhere else entirely.

\-----  
Wanda’s not sure where exactly she is. It’s certainly not New Jersey. It doesn’t really matter, in the grand scheme of things, where they are. But the room Agatha has given her is comfortable enough. She should be resting. She wants to sleep for a century. But all she can do is stare at the ceiling. 

There’s a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, Agatha enters. Gone is the dramatic witchy outfit. It’s bizarre to see the woman in purple pajamas, but Wanda is past caring.

“I can hear you thinking,” says Agatha. “You know, for a telepath, you’re terrible at hiding your own thoughts.” 

“I don’t even know how,” replies Wanda. Agatha took her words as an invitation, walking into the room. 

Agatha sits down on the bed and puts her arms around Wanda. Wanda doesn't object, couldn’t object. She feels a tiny bit closer to whole than she had since the magic surrounding Westview had faded.

“Why are you being so kind?” asks Wanda. 

“Because you need it. Because I wish someone had been there for me when I needed it. Because you’re the most powerful person I’ve ever met, and someone has to stabilize you before you start messing with the fabric of the universe. Because I enjoy your company, Wanda Maximoff. All those reasons.” 

There is a split second where Agatha knows Wanda is about to kiss her. She can hear the woman’s loud thoughts, knows it’s coming before Wanda turns around and presses their lips together. Agatha kisses her for a moment, feels the power and the pain wrapped up in this woman. Then, suddenly, she pulls away. Wanda’s looking at her like a wounded animal now.

“This is the part where I ask you to think about if this is what you really want,” says Agatha. “I’m not here to make it hurt worse.” 

“I thought you could read my mind,” replies Wanda. 

“Only when you think loudly. And I think I want to hear you say this anyway.”

“I need this,” says Wanda. 

“And you’re not going to hate me in the morning darling?” asks Agatha. Wanda doesn’t reply, but she does crash their lips back together. 

Kissing Wanda Maximoff tastes a little bit like grief, but not in a bad way. It feels like catharsis, like the light at the end of the tunnel. The moment they break apart, Wanda stares at Agatha hungrily. 

“Take off your clothes.” Wanda orders, Sokovian accent out in full force. Agatha’s tempted to say no, to tell Wanda to go first, to run the show herself. But that’s not what Wanda needs. And right now, what Wanda Maximoff needs she gets. So Agatha strips for Wanda. It’s not a show, or a tease, just a quick removal of clothing. And then Wanda is climbing on top of Agatha. Then Wanda’s mouth finds Agatha’s left boob, and Wanda’s hand is between Agatha’s legs. At that moment Agatha knows that she has never, ever been in control of the Maximoff situation, and she never will be. The thought is infuriating, but damn if it isn’t a little hot.

Wanda’s fingers are rubbing circles on Agatha’s clit and fuck if she isn’t good at that. Agatha’s hands grasp at the sheets. She’d rather be touching Wanda, but she can sense that now is not the time. 

Agatha is moaning now, her hips starting to move. There’s magic in the air, electric. Red and purple mixing together. Wanda’s kissing down Agatha’s stomach, slowly finding her way to Agatha’s wet folds. Then Wanda’s face is in Agatha’s pussy, licking and sucking and Agatha has never been less in control in her life. There’s something freeing about it.

Agatha gets ridiculously close ridiculously fast. It’s almost embarrassing - she’s centuries-old and it should not be this easy to get her off. No one who’s been shacking up with a robot should be this good at sex. Agatha attempts to wrest back one last little bit of her control, trying to fight against coming. 

Then Wanda lets up for a moment. Kisses back up Agatha's stomach, replacing her tongue with her hand. Her mouth finds its way back to Agatha’s. For a moment Agatha tastes herself on the Scarlet Witch’s lips. There’s something tremendously satisfying about being touched by Wanda Maximoff. Power is sexy - and Wanda is the most powerful being on the damn planet. 

Wanda’s fingers glow red, and she slips them inside Agatha. In and out, in and out and Agatha will be damned (is damned, has long been damned) if she isn’t about to come. 

Agatha’s vision blurs, goes white, and her whole body tenses, and then the room is absolutely awash in purple and holy shit she’s coming. Her legs shake and for a moment she’s floating with Wanda on top of her and then she’s gently sinking back into the bed.

“I hope that helped,” comments Agatha, the moment she regains her senses enough to speak. Wanda rolls off of her, sets her gaze on the ceiling again. Then Wanda’s magic is gently lifting Agatha out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Agatha wants to say something, wants to lash out and snark. But Wanda has been through the unimaginable today, and now is not time to poke the bear. It’s a few minutes before Agatha can walk, but she lays silently in the hallway, thinking, feeling the grief rolling out of Wanda’s room. 

They’ll talk about this some other time. There will be time.


End file.
